


The Dancer

by minandmic



Category: Horror - Fandom
Genre: Death, Gore, Horror, Murder, Other, horror story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-11 10:33:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3324326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minandmic/pseuds/minandmic





	The Dancer

Dancing is my only friend. Ballet is my only life.

Each day I go to the dance studio and my heart skips a beat. Dancing is the only way I can forget now. When I dance I can breathe again, I feel alive. I'm the best in the class and that makes me feel so good.

But the memories are coming back, each jump and pirouette my mind goes back. I just finished my recovery from the incident.

It was so many nights ago and this man would always trail me home from the dance studio. I took so many detours but he was always behind me. He always walked, he never ran. He kept a plastered smile upon his pale face, his lips were painted red and he wore an old suit. I only saw him in the dark.

After a while I stopped being scared. I stopped taking detours. One night I just took my normal route home, I didn't look behind me once, but I knew he was there.

I parked my crappy car in the driveway and inserted my key into my front door. I turned it once and heard that satisfying click that meant it was unlocked. I closed the door behind me, I didn't even bother to lock the door. I tossed my keys onto the messy counter and plopped onto the couch, flipping on the TV.

They were reporting multiple missing persons within this little town. It was nothing new so I just turned it off. I heard the door open and now he was inside. I crept into the kitchen and grabbed my knife. I crouched in the corner by the sink. His footsteps weren't slow or heavy like you would hear in a horror movie. They were light and fast... Almost as if he was dancing. There were no lights on in the house and his shady figure was only slightly darker than the rest of the house. I heard him go upstairs and I breathed a bit before following him. I crept up behind him and lodged the knife into his throat and he sputtered and fell to the ground. My heart was beating so fast. My adrenaline was rushing through every vein and artery in my body. I flipped his body over and looked at his face. It wasn't him.

It was my boyfriend and I killed him. I covered my mouth with my hand and realized it was wet. His blood was on my hands. The adrenaline was still rushing and it was probably the only reason I was able to drag it into the basement.

Now he was just another missing person on the news, thanks to me.


End file.
